Luring
by Scaaary
Summary: One shot. Be careful of people on the streets, they may turn out to be... interesting.


I met him when I was at an awkward stage in my life. High school had just relieved me of all of my maturity after shoving me out into the wilderness and hollering at me to get a job because there was nothing else to do until a college decided I would be decent for their acceptance. My father didn't care much; once I had enough money I knew he'd bring up a speech about moving out and moving on and moving and moving away from this city. I liked the small city that we were in. There didn't need to be any moving here.

I was out on my own one night, like I normally would be, scouring the streets for excitement and daring deeds that I would never think of performing. He caught me off guard, eyes misting and overclouded. He smiled as we ran head on into each other and I attempted a smile, but he just looked so high and red-eyed that I couldn't raise the corners enough to form a friendly grin. He sort of cocked his head to the side and asked me something about my destination, and I responded that there was none. He frowned, and then murmured words about a young lady's safety and yah-de-yah. Then he decided that it wasn't worth it so he resorted to telling me that he was walking nowhere also and that he'd walk with me.

I contemplated for a brief moment on this, but decided it would be my first daring deed and that my father wouldn't give a rat's ass if I was gone. I guess that was probably the wrong decision, but I was young and who would give a care at that age anyway?

"Do you have a destination in the far future?" He asked me as we walked down the darkening streets of the small city.

Assuming he was talking about college I shook my head and said, "My grades aren't good enough."

"Well there are many exceptions to that," he said quietly, almost chuckling.

"Cheating is not an option. I think it's disgusting to sink that low." I half hoped that he would get insulted and turn around.

"I did not mean that," he responded and I sighed in my head, "I simply meant that if it is something you truly want there are multiple ways to get around an obstacle such as grades. Tutoring, for example."

I nodded my head and said nothing. No tutoring for me.

After an awkward length of silence, he said, "You must be going somewhere."

I shrugged, more so to myself, then said, "Home."

"Would you like to come to mine? We can share a lovely pot of tea." He seemed harmless. I remained silent. "It is alright if you do not. I can take a few cups on my own."

"Alright."

I paid no attention to his quaint home, nestled on the edge of the small city that was filled with strange antiques that shone in the filtered light and old furniture that was coated with a thick layer of dust. It passed my mind once that this could not be his house because it seemed too unused, but just the mannerism that he had about the rooms made me change my mind. He welcomed me into the dining room where a small kettle was already heating up over a hand-held burner in the middle of the table. An empty cup sat in front of a chair that the man pulled out for me. I sat myself down and thanked him.

"I hope this brew will be alright. I try to… personalize each batch." He smiled to me and I smiled back. "So then. Does my guest desire any nourishment?"

I shook my head and said, "No thank you."

"Oh, but you must try where biscuits. They were made in Paris but imported over into our sad little city. They are quite, as they say, _très bien_."

I laughed slightly to let the mood lighten then nodded. "I shall have to try one then," I said, mimicking his strange language.

"I shall be just a moment. Ignore the tea if it goes off," he said, dashing off into some room.

Funny I didn't think anything was strange. I just sat, watching the tea boil. I didn't take a moment to look around the room or I would have seen the interesting color scheme that the man had chosen. Or if I had even managed to study the silverware on the hard oak table I would have noticed how unclean it was. I just didn't have the mind to, and as the tea went off and the man returned with the biscuits all that was in my head was fun.

"And here you are," he said, placing one of the biscuits on the china plate in front of me. It looked a little pink, like it had cranberries in it and it was a slight bit soggy. I frowned, staring at it intently.

"I understand it doesn't look very appetizing," he said almost cautiously, taking the kettle from its perch, "but it is actually quite tasty once you try it."

I nodded, and watched him as he poured the tea into the small cup. I immediately noticed there was not a second placing around the table. "Will you be joining me?"

This question almost seemed to stump him for a moment, but then he said, "No, I was not intending to. I was going to treat you."

I looked up at him. "But you had said before you would share it with me. It _is_ rude to eat in front of another."

I watched his eyes grow even redder as he walked the length of the table and sat across from me and poured himself a cup of tea. He no longer had a smile on his face.

"Did I say something wrong?" I rose my cup up and felt the warmness seep into my hands.

"No…" he murmured, letting it drift into the silence.

I smelled the tea, inhaling the sweet aroma. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought I had said something improper," I said, raising the cup to my lips.

"Wait!" He suddenly screamed, lurching across the table and throwing the burner to the floor, smacking the cup from my hands, letting the tea splash on the table cloth and my shirt. It was pure red.

I stared at this man who was in my face, with confusion. What was this?

"I'm sorry," he spoke, clearing his voice, "I think it is time for you to decide your destination."

He slowly climbed down from the table and walked up to me, gracefully taking my hand in his. It was a bony, skinny, cold hand that sent a tingle down the length of my back. He led me out to the front door and opened it, then let me step outside. I heard him apologize for my shirt but I wasn't listening.

Then he stopped me and I realized he still held my hand. I turned to him and let my eyes face him, still not completely understanding what type of man this was. He was still frowning, but his eyes had watered. He leaned in almost slowly and let his lips skim my cheek. That's when I ran all the way back home.


End file.
